


Incendiary Devices

by sequence_fairy



Category: Bleach
Genre: Adultery, Canon Compliant, F/M, post-686
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 09:22:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7885516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arson is the purposeful setting of a fire with the intent to cause damage. This is another, more deliberate kind of destruction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incendiary Devices

**Author's Note:**

> Things I never thought I'd have to do - write post-686 adultery!fic in order to keep my OTP together.

Their kids are downstairs, their spouses out on the back deck - making conversation over glasses of wine and the remains of dessert – but she hadn’t thought twice before following him up the stairs and into his old room, before letting him back her into the wall beside his closet, before letting him kiss the breath out of her lungs.

He tastes like the beer he’s been swallowing all afternoon, like the smoky sauce Yuzu put on the fish, and he tastes like the heat of the sun in her mouth - like the memory of summertime when you are young and it’s only green grass and blue skies and the buzz of cicadas and there is nothing else.

When he finally lifts his head, he’s flushed and glassy-eyed and Rukia can feel the heat of her own flush painting her cheeks.

“We can’t do this here,” she says, as his hands clutch and grab at her waist. He buries his face in the side of her neck, and she hears him inhale, and then feels the graze of his teeth on her skin. “Ichigo, _really_ –” He presses her back against the wall, and then presses his hips into hers. Rukia gasps. “– we can’t do this here.” Ichigo’s thumbs dig into the soft skin under her ribs.

“Are you asking me to stop?” Ichigo asks, his voice a rasp of emotion, and then his tongue laves the shell of her ear and Rukia shudders against him. “Because if you are, tell me again. Maybe this time I’ll believe you.”

Rukia whimpers as Ichigo’s teeth bite into her earlobe, then she hisses in a breath as he leaves what she is sure will be bruises from the base of her jaw down to the pulse point at the bottom of her neck.

“Please,” Rukia tries again, but he snakes a hand under her shirt and slides up taut flesh to find the smooth fullness of her breast. “ _Please_ ,” Rukia pleads, and Ichigo hikes her up the wall, one hand under the bottom of her thigh, the other still up her shirt, worrying and teasing and making her writhe against him. She can feel him, hard, through his pants, and the heat between her legs is making her head swim.

“What about –” Ichigo cuts her off with a kiss, bruising in its intensity and Rukia melts into his embrace.

“Don’t say her name,” Ichigo warns, and kisses her again. This time Rukia kisses him back, and it’s teeth and tongues and the grip of her nails in the skin of his shoulders. She drops her head back again when Ichigo surrenders her mouth and licks a trail down her neck. He drops to his knees in front of her, and unbuttons her pants; burying his face in the juncture of her thighs.

“Ichi– _ah–_ go,” Rukia gasps, as he tugs her panties to one side and slides his fingers between her slick folds. His fingertips circle her clit and Rukia moans. Her hips buck. He looks up at her, eyes dark with heat and something dangerous, and she sees a glimpse of his teeth in the grin he gives her before he strips off her underwear and licks a stripe up her centre without any preamble. Rukia keens his name and her hands land in his hair.

Ichigo takes her apart, the same way he always does, the same way she remembers from every other time they’ve done this, and Rukia has no chance. The slick pressure of his tongue and the thrust of his fingers undoes her in record time, and she curls over him as her climax rushes through her like the tide.

“Does _he_ do that for you?” Ichigo asks while Rukia catches her breath, and there’s something echoing under his voice, “is it as good when _he_ does it?”

“Thought we agreed not to talk about him here,” Rukia retorts, twisting her fingers in his hair to pull him up off his knees. Ichigo stands, and shucks his pants as he goes, before hiking her back up the wall and sliding home in a smooth thrust that makes Rukia’s toes curl and her eyes roll back in her head.

He’s right though - it’s never this good with Renji, never this satisfying, never this desperate, never this _perfect_. He’s so goddamn _right_ , and she’ll never tell him, because she’ll barely even admit it to herself, but _goddamn_ , every one of his thrusts draws a choked off whimper out of her throat, and Rukia wishes, she wishes with every fibre of her being, that she could let go properly - that she could say his name the way she used to - broken and wrecked and falling out of her mouth like a prayer, like this pleasure was the only god she ever worshipped.

Instead, she buries her face in his neck, and lets him push her over the edge again, and she doesn’t flinch when he bites down on her shoulder and she can feel his teeth through her shirt. That’ll leave a mark she’ll have to explain, and Rukia is suddenly, viciously glad that he’s left a mark she’ll have a hard time smoothing away with _kido_ and powder.

“Rukia,” he mutters, at the end, and if Rukia notices the way his voice seems choked with some kind of emotion, she chooses to ignore it. “Rukia,” he says again, and this time, he lifts his head, and she can’t ignore it anymore, since it shines out of his eyes and _oh_ , there’s no coming back from this.

Naked and aching in his gaze is what neither of them want to talk about, what neither of them will allow themselves to acknowledge or admit - because to do so, would be to ruin six lives, and at least, this way, they can pretend it’s nothing more than some kind of leftover addiction to the feeling of each other’s skin. She also knows that it’s exactly the same thing he sees in her eyes, and she swallows around the words that are clamouring in her throat, and watches him do the same.

“This can’t happen again,” Rukia says, once Ichigo has stepped back and cleaned himself up. Ichigo nods, absently. “It can’t,” she repeats, “I mean it.” And she does, for real this time. It’s gone on too long already, happened too many times now, and Rukia knows that it’s only a matter of time. “They’re going to find out.”

“Are they?” Ichigo asks. “Who’s going to tell them? Inoue –” he pauses, corrects himself, “ _Orihime_ and I haven’t shared a bed in years –”

“Ichigo – what?”

“She’ll never suspect – you know she spends all her free time at the clinic downtown?” Ichigo runs his hands through his hair. He looks back up at Rukia, and there’s _resolve_ there - the kind of resolve she hasn’t seen since he took down Yhwach and saved them all. “I think she’s fucking Ishida,” he says, and then turns to look out the window.

Rukia blinks. “I’m sure – that’s not – that can’t –”

“Why?” Ichigo looks over his shoulder at her. “Because we’re not doing the same?”

“Well, I –”

“Don’t start feeling guilty now Rukia,” Ichigo says, “not after I just –”

“Ichi-nii! Are you up there?” Yuzu’s voice filters up the staircase and Rukia’s heart slams into her throat.

“Yeah!” Ichigo calls down, “gimme a sec!” He takes two long steps across his room to get to Rukia, and leans in close. “Follow me down in like five minutes,” he says, taking her face in his hands. This time when he kisses her, it tastes like desperation, like devastation, like the unravelling of everything she’s ever wanted. He leaves her then, with their last kiss turning to ash in her mouth.

Ichigo slips out of his bedroom, leaves the door ajar and then tramps down the stairs. She hears him make conversation with Orihime, hears Kazui’s high, clear voice and Ichika’s girlish response, and Rukia is suddenly convinced that she’ll go downstairs, and everyone will _know_. She smooths a shaking hand over her hair and leaves the bedroom, leaves it smelling of sex and unkept promises and the threat of rain.


End file.
